


Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin

by Skylar_Inkstone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But it's just the abuse talking, But that's just AU worldbuilding, Clever!Harry, Fluctuating Personality, Gen, Godmother Minerva McGonagall, Harry will act his age, Harry will also act older than his age, Horcrux Effected Harry, May Become a Series, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Potentials Fufilled, Rating and Warnings Subject to Change, Seemingly OP Harry, Slightly Manipulative!Harry, but not evil, characters tags to be added as I write and update, relationships stay PLATONIC for godsake he's only 11
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24248542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Inkstone/pseuds/Skylar_Inkstone
Summary: -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------When someone is forced to grow up very, very quickly at very, very young age, it tends to alter who they could have been, for either the better or for the worse. Even if they are given the change at acting their age.:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Harry is a clever child whose maturity goes beyond his years. When he discovers that he is a wizard, he is excited and determined to use this new world for his benefit. It is only after arriving at Hogwarts does Harry start to realize that there is more than meets the eye to his newfound home and starts unraveling a conspiracy plot and a mystery centuries old.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall & Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

It was rather unfortunate that no one thought to check up on a little boy that was placed onto a doorstep, to be left with the morning paper and milk, unwanted by the occupants of the house. Or even if someone did ask to check up on the small child, the wise old man who had given him to a cold home would smile, reassure the person asking that everything was fine and offer a lemon drop. The wise old man was, in this particular situation, a fool. He should have checked up on the boy himself. After all, he was legally his guardian. But nobody knew that, so nobody was able to press the issue, and the wise old man kept believing that everything was fine, ignoring some of the more concerning things that an old lady who lived next door to the boy wrote to him. Besides, the boy would face challenges and difficult times, if he was getting a little bit beaten up and a little bit bullied, how could that do anything other than help shape him for what he would eventually need to do? It was a mistake in thought pattern and a mistake in action, but the wise old man wouldn’t realize until it was far too late to do anything about it.

~:|\\-/|:~

Harry Potter, the boy who smelled. Harry Potter, the boy who wore clothes too big for him, closer to rags then something to be worn. Harry Potter, the weirdo who spoke with snakes at recess and hid in corners, seemingly to lurk in shadows. Harry Potter, the boy who was cousins with Dudley Dursley, but who was somehow stranger, weaker, yet somehow, unnervingly smarter. Even if Dudley didn’t hurt anyone who came near Harry, they still would avoid him. He just wasn’t **normal**. Everyone knew that.

And though it should have bothered him, really a **normal** child would have wished for friends, Harry Potter did not. He was perfectly content to come to school simply because the law required it, and for the knowledge he learned there, but that was all. After a point, he stopped attempting at friendship. _“Freaks don’t get to have friends,”_ was the first thing he always thought whenever someone brought it up. But then he would ruthlessly push it down and away. _“I am not a freak,”_ he would firmly tell himself, _“I am a Harry.”_ And while it was put simply, his name, **Harry** , meant so much more to him. It meant that he was smart, that he was clever and that he was strong. **Harry** meant that no matter how much others tried to put him down, to make him small and dumb, he would never break. Because it was pretty obvious to the quiet boy that his family and schoolteachers didn’t particularly care for him, or most of the time, was out to make him into what **they** wanted.

His family seemed determined to make him lesser, to turn him into something like a slave. And his schoolteachers seemed to want to either forget about him, or cause him undue humiliation because he was seemingly so dumb. But Harry knew that in order to survive, he must do worse than Dudley, so he hid his knowledge behind pretending to be mute, by getting two or three answers right on a test but getting the rest wrong. It wasn’t long before the school met with Petunia. (Harry learned early on that his relatives weren’t **really** properly an ‘aunt’ and an ‘uncle’ and stopped thinking of them as such.)

When she walked out of the building, the next day Harry suddenly found himself in the grade level below Dudley’s, which was fine by him. He still hid his knowledge, but now he could pretend to just be scraping by, getting a high enough grade that he wouldn’t be held back again or be kicked out, but getting a grade low enough that he didn’t garner any special attention. And it worked.

Home, however, was an entirely different situation. He was not to be seen, nor heard. He was to do his chores, a list far too long to be normal, Harry knew from the little of TV he oversaw, and from the many books he read in virtual darkness, hiding them from the Dursleys. But he did them without complaint, and did them as well as his capabilities allowed. Still, Vernon would find excuses to hurt him, to beat him with fists and belts. Petunia would still deny him food, seemingly on whim, and Dudley didn’t need an excuse to beat him. His cousin was also constantly breaking things around the house, or throwing rocks at the windows and then blaming it all on Harry. Harry took all of his punishments as silently and calmly as he could, sneaking out late at night for first aid kits and food. The Dusleys were completely unaware that the latch on his cupboard door was broken and he planned on keeping it that way.

He also stole, whenever he felt that the situation was dire enough. He wouldn’t swipe candy, though. It would be a loaf of bread if he was wearing elastic lined pants passed down to him from Dudley that was so baggy on him no one would take notice. Sometimes it would be a box of crackers if the store was busy enough that nobody would take notice of a tiny kid. He would not steal things that require refrigeration, or fruit, because they smelled and attracted bugs as it went bad. Advoiding detection from the Dursleys was his number one priority.

Life had quickly fallen into rhythm for the small child, and the years flew by quickly. He was still underweight, and his eyesight was still awful – though he could see better in the dark – and he was still everyone’s favorite punching bag.

One day, a few weeks before his eleventh birthday, he went to go get the mail, and discovered a letter addressed to him. It took him a moment to process who it was intended for, as it had the name _Harrison James Potter_ written on it. However he quickly figured it out and, not pausing on his way to the kitchen, he stuffed the letter through the vent at the top of the cupboard door, knowing that he’d have to wait if he’d want to read it without his relatives taking it from him.

The boiling summer day continued on as normal, the Dursley’s doing their various activities, and Harry doing his long list of chores. He cleaned up breakfast, pilfering a piece of bread and a pear, then went into the sitting area to vacuum the rug, couch and Vernon’s chair. After, he made lunch for the family of three, he gathered cleaning supplies and attacked the bathrooms. By the time he was done, the Dursley’s had disappeared, and Harry cleaned up the dishes. He took a stack of crackers to eat and went outside to weed and garden Petunia’s award winning flowers, and then to mow the front and back yards. When he came back inside, dinner had already been made, but not for him. He went into the bathroom, took a quick shower that lasted a whole minute, and then beat it to his cupboard. Once in the safety of his room, he gently pulled out a loose brick in the wall, where he had his stolen food stashed. He took two pieces of bread and some rice cakes and quickly ate them. He put the brick back and picked up his letter, finished eating.

He opened the letter, scanning it quickly. While inclined to disbelieve what the letter was stating, Harry thought about it for a few moments, and decided that his being a wizard explained quite a few things. Uncertain how to get access to an owl, he resolved to send his confirmation letter through the regular mailing system. He would just have to hope that it would reach the right person. After all, this ‘Hogwarts’ was a chance at the freedom he’d always craved. He wouldn’t have a ridiculous amount of chores, he wouldn’t be constantly beaten, he wouldn’t be starved and, most importantly, he wouldn’t have to pretend to be so dumb anymore.

Confidant that he made the right decision, Harry tugged the string to the lightbulb, shutting off the weak light source before his relatives could start screaming at him for wasting money. Pulling the thin blanket up around his shoulders, Harry was asleep within a few minutes, his face going slack, looking peaceful.

~:|\\-/|:~

When Harry had written his letter to Hogwarts, he made sure to request a professor’s assistance in going shopping at what he assumed was their shopping center. (Whoever had come up with ‘Diagon Alley’ must have felt very clever of themselves.) So it was of little surprise when a few days later there was an unexpected knock at the door. It was fortunate that Harry had just finished cleaning breakfast dishes and was in the sitting room, just about to vacuum. Answering the door, Harry was met with a stern looking woman in slightly outdated clothes and glasses, her black hair up in a bun.

“Hello?” Harry pasted on a confused look, peering up at the woman just so to appear younger then he was.

The woman appraised him with a critical eye. “Good morning. Is this the Dursley residence?”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry confirmed.

“Good.” The woman nodded. “My name’s Professor McGonagall. I’m here for Harry Potter, to pick him up to take him school shopping. Is he in?”

Harry, well-practiced with making himself look vulnerable to adults, blinked owlishly. “I’m Harry Potter, ma’am.”

It was slightly amusing to see the professor do a double take. Clearly, she was surprised at his appearance.

“Oh. May I come in Mr. Potter? I need to go over a few things with your Aunt and Uncle.”

Harry hid a grimace. The less the people from his new school interacted with his relatives the better. “Of course ma’am. If you can please follow me into the sitting room, I can fetch my relatives.”

Professor McGonagall followed him, opting to sit on the couch, looking rather prim and out of place. Harry quickly walked out to the back garden, where Petunia was.

“Excuse me, Aunt Petunia?”

“What.” Petunia looked downright furious that Harry dared interrupt her gossiping time.

“There is a professor here from my school.”

If Harry wouldn’t have been hit over the head with a cast iron skillet, he would have laughed at how quickly Petunia’s face drained of blood.

“Pardon me,” Petunia gritted out to the neighbor she had been talking to. “My nephew must have gotten into some sort of trouble again.”

Turning around, she gabbed Harry’s arm and marched him to the sitting room, only letting go at the last possible moment.

If Harry had thought Petunia had went pale when he had mentioned ‘his’ school she was practically a ghost now.

“You… You’re the one… Why are you here,” whispered Harry’s aunt.

“I am here to take Mr. Potter to Diagon Alley for school shopping, seeing as he doesn’t know where it is and needs someone who does to take him. Before we leave however, I wish to speak with you about why your nephew is dressed in rags.”

Harry froze. This was bad.

Petunia’s face immediately flushed bright pale pink. “Who am I to know why my nephew decides to wear filth instead of the clothes I buy him.”

A coil of anger curled its way in Harry’s stomach, but he kept quiet.

The professor frowned, but apparently decided that the answer was adequate enough for her. “Very well. I’ll return with Mr. Potter at precisely three o’clock. Good day Mrs. Dursley.”

Petunia gave a strained smile. “Good day.”

Harry obediently followed Professor McGonagall. They silently exited the house, and once they had walked a few blocks down and into an alleyway the professor turned to face Harry.

“Mr. Potter, in order to get to Diagon Alley, I must Side-Along Apperate you. Apperation is a method of travel that you will be able to learn at sixteen.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry said.

“Very well then. Your hand, if you will Mr. Potter.”

Harry extended his hand and Professor McGonagall firmly grasped it, turned on her heel, forcing Harry to follow her path, and they were suddenly squeezed into a tube. While it was hard to breathe, it only lasted a few moments, and Harry quickly fought down the nausea. Once he was able to focus on his surroundings, he saw that he was in London. A current of people were walking every which way, and the traffic was horrendously loud. And right in front of him was a pub, clearly of magical origin, as it was called the ‘Leaky Cauldron’.

“This way Mr. Potter. We’re headed right into here.”

“Professor,” Harry started, making sure he sounded timid. “Why is the entrance to Diagon Alley in the middle of such a busy place full of non-magical people? And why is it a pub?”  
Professor McGonagall smiled at the inquiry, clearly pleased by Harry’s curiosity. “The crowds give cover for witches and wizards for when they wish to apperate into Muggle London – muggle means non-magical – and the reason for a pub is simply because it was here before Diagon Alley was even built.”

“Oh,” Harry responded. “Thank you.”

The professor smiled warmly at him as she led him into the Leaky Cauldron, bypassing the small crowd of people inside and going out to the back where there was a brick wall. Harry noticed that Professor McGonagall counted the bricks from a rubbish bin and tapped it with only what he could assume was her wand. Instantly the bricks moved aside, creating an archway and a rather impressive entrance to what was the most chaotic shopping center Harry ever witnessed.

“Come along Mr. Potter. We shall go to Gringotts – the bank – to take some money from your account.”

Harry’s frown was fleeting, but the professor saw it anyways.

“Is something the matter Mr. Potter?”

“I had no idea I had any money ma’am.”

Professor McGonagall frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

Harry had to jog a little to keep up with the professor’s irritated strides. “Ma’am, I had no idea I had a cent to my name, let alone a whole bank account. My relatives told me that my parents where poor and wasted all of their money on alcohol that eventually lead to the car crash that killed them.”

Professor McGonagall stopped short, and Harry almost fell flat on his face stopping himself for continuing onward.

“What,” gasped the professor, pale.

Harry looked up at Professor McGonagall, his face carefully arranged in an open, but blank expression. “My parents where alcoholics who died in a car crash and was in debt because they spent all of their money for alcohol.”

The professor clutched at her heart. “Oh dear Merlin,” she whispered. “No Harry. Your parents did not die in a car crash and they most **certainly** were not alcoholics!”

Harry, who had figured out long ago that the story his relatives gave him was a lie, but he still acted shocked.

“I… What? Ma’am, if they didn’t die in a car crash and weren’t alcoholics, how did they die? Why would my relatives lie to me?”

Taking a few moments to collect herself, the professor took a deep breath and then let it out. “I shall tell you over lunch, where we cannot be overheard Mr. Potter.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry agreed softly.

Professor McGonagall then continued to walk, silent. Harry followed.

~:|\\-/|:~

Though it was a flurry of activity, Harry catalogued everything he witnessed to use for a later time, ranging from the hatred that was sparked in the goblin’s eyes when Professor McGonagall requested for access from Harry’s vault to the pale blonde boy at the clothes shop who had immediately introduced himself but never asked for Harry to. Harry also paid special attention to the descriptions that followed his conversation with the blonde boy of Hogwarts and Quidditch that the professor deemed important to impart. They bought Harry books for his first year classes in addition to a few that Harry deemed safe enough to buy under watchful eyes, clearly earning more approval from his stern escort. They had passed the wizarding equivalent of an eye doctor’s office and Harry had asked if he could get rid of his glasses. He had been please to find out that it was a possibility, and though he walked out quite a few galleons lighter, he now would never need glasses again. He also went bought the cauldron he would need and all of the potion ingredients that were listed as required. And now, they were walking down the cobblestone path, heading towards the wand shop, when the professor stopped them.

“Mr. Potter, do you have a familiar?”

“A what?”

“A familiar. It’s an animal companion that a wizard or witch may have to assist in their magic usage and their overall health. Personally, I strongly recommend that you should get one. However there is a general upkeep to having such a thing so you must be able to take responsibility for one,” Professor McGonagall explained.

“Oh,” Harry replied. “No. I don’t have a familiar.”

“Would you like one?”

Harry took a few moments to internally debate it, but he knew from the professor’s expression that his own gave away his desire for one.

“Come Mr. Potter, let’s head inside,” she said, gesturing to the store in front of them.

Harry allowed himself to break out into a genuine smile as he followed the professor.

They walked inside the store and Harry was having a hard time choosing where to focus. There were many, many creatures of all sorts of different shapes and sizes, as well as entirely different habitats with their own smells and noises.

“Whoa…”

Professor McGonagall had a small grin on her face as she watched Harry wander about. She knew that unless what the child wanted was too dangerous, she would allow him whatever he chose. Though Albus had set down that only owls, cats and toads were acceptable ‘pets’, the Hogwarts Charter said differently, and she was more than willing to risk the headmaster’s wrath.

Harry was eventually drawn to a rather dark corner of the shop, which slightly concerned Professor McGonagall and she rushed to stand next to him.

To her horror Harry ignored the obvious warning signs that this habitat was more dangerous than the others and stepped into it.

“Mr. Potter what in Merlin’s name are you doi-” She suddenly stopped talking when a low hiss emanated from Harry and a giant snake rose up to tower over the small boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who has chapters actually stored up and waiting to be published weekly or every two weeks! Don't expect regular updates after those run out though because ya girl a HOT mess. Kudos and comments feed me, so uh... Help a starving author out if you will. Please tell what you think and where you want things to go, because that will ALWAYS be taken into account. Hope y'all staying healthy and safe out there!  
> Come chat with me on tumblr @our-blood-is-our-ink!


	2. Chapter 2

_“Who dares trespass,”_ a low voice asked as Harry stepped across the clearly marked boundary into the habitat.

_“I mean no harm or disturbance. I am being drawn here. Perhaps you can assist me.”_ Harry responded as respectfully as he could.

Suddenly, the grass shifted and a huge shape rose above Harry. It took him a few moments to process that it was a giant snake.

_“How interesting. A speaker.”_ The snake hesitated, tilting its head in thought. _“I am willing to help how I can. Do you know why you are being drawn here?”_

Harry shook his head. _“I do not. I am looking for a familiar, but am uncertain of who to choose.”_

A spark of interest flashed in the snake’s eyes. _“Would you take me as yours? I have spent an eternity locked up here and would additionally love to be bonded to a wizardling such as yourself.”_

Harry paused and thought it over. _“Your size would most likely cause… Problems for others.”_

The snake hissed out a laugh. _“Do not worry little wizardling, it is not beyond my abilities to become smaller.”_ The snake demonstrated so by shrinking down to about three feet.

Harry smirked. _“That’s perfect. But before we bond, I need to know your name.”_

_“My name’s Cain.”_

Harry clapped his hands once in an uncharacteristic display of delight and, letting instinct guide him, spoke. _“I, Harrison James Potter, do take this Snake, Cain, as my bonded familiar throughout both my life and his. So mote it be.”_

_“So mote it be,”_ echoed Cain.

There was a very brief, dull flash of light as Lady Magic granting the bond, shocking Professor McGonagall out of her stupor as she recognized what had happened.

“Mr. Potter you cannot **possibly** expect Hogwarts to allow a dangerous snake into the school!”

Harry had to fight his urge to snap at the woman, opening his eyes as wide as possible. “But Professor, Cain is **mine** now, and you told me that I may take a familiar. He is who I chose.” He paused, forcing his eyes to water and then added, “Please Professor, don’t make me leave Cain here.”

The professor opened her mouth to speak, but shut it tightly with a snap, clearly thinking the situation through. After several moments of silence, she sighed, coming to a conclusion.

“Very well Mr. Potter. But do be warned that you will be the one to take responsibility for whatever your familiar does.”

“Of course Professor,” Harry agreed easily. “Shall I go pay for Cain now?”

“Yes. Come along.”

Harry shared a grin with his new familiar as he stooped to pick Cain up. He settled the snake onto his shoulders and then let Professor McGonagall lead the way.

~:|\\-/|:~

Immediately after Harry walked into the wand shop, Cain hissed.

_“Do not touch any of the wands here. They have been spelled upon, I can smell the magic.”_

Harry petted Cain’s head to show that he heard his warning.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. I was wondering when you would come around,” a soft, slightly absent-minded voice greeted.

Harry spun around to come face to face with an old man who was clearly the owner of the shop, Mr. Ollivander.

“Garrick,” Professor McGonagall said warmly.

“Minerva. How nice to see you. You hardly ever escort students anymore,” Ollivander replied.

“Alas, I rarely have the time between doing my jobs and most of Albus’s.”

Ollivander snorted, which surprised Harry, as the man didn’t seem to be the sort to be inclined to such actions.

“While that’s an issue that I’ll be insisting to have you over for tea to discuss, I believe you have brought Mr. Potter here for his wand.”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “Indeed I did.”

Ollivander turned to face Harry.

“I’m not touching any of the wands in here – Cain told me that they’ve been tampered with,” Harry stated, purposely sounding a drop more than slightly nervous.

The old man blinked in surprise before he broke out in a smile.

“Oh you clever boy, bringing in your familiar. Yes, you’re right, all of these wands have been tampered with. Ministry regulations and general influence from the more powerful people in the magical world and all that. A shame really, some of these would have been far more powerful than they are now, but that’s not the point. If you could please follow me to the back, I have wands that I sell for only those who are of the proper families and who know to ask.”

Harry nodded and, with a small smile from Professor McGonagall, followed Ollivander.

He led them to the back of his store, where he tapped some bricks, causing them to shimmer and become translucent.

“Just through here please Mr. Potter,” he said, gesturing to the newly revealed tunnel.

Harry hesitated, flinching when Professor McGonagall laid a hand on his shoulder without warning. “It is safe Mr. Potter. I should know. I came here with my mother when it was still Garrick’s grandfather who ran the shop and she insisted that I be let into the back where all the untainted wands are kept.”

He nodded, took a deep breath and walked through the wall, stumbling a bit at the sudden darkness, his eyes taking a moment to adjust, only to be painfully, momentarily, blinded as the room he somehow found himself in was flooded in light. His heart skipped a beat or two at what the light unveiled.

There weren’t a lot of wands, though the few he saw where what seemed to be beautiful blends of woods. Rather, Harry saw a forest of all sorts of different trees and shrubs, growing in its own corner, twisting together occasionally to form something new. And then there was all of the random bits of what seemed to be from animals lying about, in seemingly no particular order, but they practically glowed with magical energy, giving the room a rich, vibrant feel.

He turned around to face the professor and Ollivander, to comment on the room, when he saw what Ollivander looked like.

His silver hair now looked like liquid metal, his eyes burning a fiery blue and his ears pointed. He also had a faint outline of what looked to be wings, and when he smiled at Harry, the young child could see fangs.

_“He is Fae. That is most interesting,”_ Cain commented.

Harry’s eyes went round as he recalled all of the stories of fae he had read about.

“Are you actually a Fae?” He blurted out, shocked.

Professor McGonagall let out what seemed to be an uncharacteristic laugh. “Very good Mr. Potter. Yes, Garrick is of the Fae, though the stigma around them is just simply awful.”

Harry blinked at her confused. “How on Earth do you know about this?”

This time, it was Ollivander who answered. “Minerva and I are cousins, though rather far removed. You’ll probably also meet a Lovegood soon, I believe they have a child that is almost ready to start to attend Hogwarts, and they’re of closer relation to the Ollivanders than the McGonagall clan.”

“Oh. Wow,” Harry said, filing the information away.

“Where you aware that I was your godmother Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked, seeming as if the question had just occurred to her.

“No. But if you are, why didn’t you raise me? Why did I live at the Dursley’s?”

Professor McGonagall let out a gusty sigh. “I would have, but I had no idea. By the time you were born, your parents were in hiding an-”

“Why were they in hiding?” Harry generally tried to seem dumber and weaker than he was, but his voice was now cold, carrying a fury that few possessed. When people hid it was either because they were cowards or because they were in such great danger that there was little other choice. And Harry doubted he was a product of two cowards.

“Perhaps all of this could wait for a later time Minerva. I must be getting back up to the shop soon and it’d be prudent that Mr. Potter leaves with his wand.”

“Of course,” the professor agreed, though she seemed a bit reluctant.

“Very well. Mr. Potter, I’m going to have you walk about and select whatever you feel is pulling you towards it,” instructed the Fey.

Something had shifted in that moment, something that told Harry that he could trust Ollivander and Professor McGonagall.

Harry nodded and started walking around, waiting to see if anything tugged at him, letting him know that it would be the right thing to pick for his wand core. He wandered about for a bit before he ended up by what seemed to be a snake’s eye in jar, suspended in liquid.

“Ah. Yes, I should have suspect. That is a basilisk eye Mr. Potter.”

“A what?”

“A basilisk Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall replied. “It’s referred to as the King of Serpents and its gaze is deadly to those who witness it.”

_“Or the Queen of Serpents, though female basilisks are far rarer as well as deadly,”_ hissed Cain.

“Oh. Then why isn’t the eye harming us?”

The professor hummed in approval at the question. “Because it requires a living heart beating behind it in order for it to be deadly Mr. Potter. Be thankful such creatures are rare, they are rather impossible to survive should one ever encounter it.”

Harry nodded and placed the jar on a worktable that Ollivander had gestured to.

“This particular eye had been in this backroom for generations, though I sadly do not know of its origins.” Ollivander cast a sad look at said object, as if it would start to give over its secrets if he stared at it long enough. “I would suggest, Mr. Potter, that you take a second sweep of the possible cores. For you to be drawn to such a powerful one suggests that your magic may just require an additional supporting core,” the wand maker encouraged.

Nodding his head once in understanding, Harry decided that he wanted to leave Cain on the worktable with the basilisk eye.

_“Stay here,”_ he hissed to his familiar. _“Though I doubt you’d contribute to any sort of interference, I’d rather avoid taking any chances.”_

Cain somehow managed a grin, and bobbed his head in agreement, curling around the jar.

Harry returned a small smile of thanks and went off on a second sweep, stopping suddenly and closing his eyes before opening them again, heading towards a more cluttered area of the room. Seemingly to hesitate, gently waving his hands out in front of him, like they had been caught in a breeze, Harry abruptly shot forward to grasp at, what appeared to him, thin air. That was, until he felt his hand close on something both soft, yet freezing cold. It was a single hair, glittering darkly and speckled with, as best as Harry could describe it, shine.

“That, Mr. Potter, would be thestral hair,” Ollivander said softly, answering the unasked question. “Only those who have witnessed death can see the offspring of Hades’ steeds. The particular hair you currently hold once belonged to the mane of Hades’ lead stallion. I received it as a gift when I had completed my apprenticeship in Wand Lore from the god himself, as he is my chosen patron. It seems to be that you’re destined for far greater things than most would suspect of you. Indeed, I happen to have an entirely separate wand in my collection that I believe might be prudent to strip down if only to incorporate its properties into an entirely new one for yourself. If you would please wait a moment.”

And without further ado, Ollivander left the room. Harry walked over to the worktable and placed the thestral hair upon it, exchanging it for Cain. It was a few minutes of silence until Ollivander returned, holding a wand with odd knots in its woodwork.

“I was meant to be keeping a hold on this particular wonder of magic for a specific customer, but I suppose we’ll see if I won’t be ‘misplacing’ it.” The wand maker placed it into Harry’s hand. “Give it a wave.”

Harry did as instructed, and felt an odd connection to the wand, as if his magic was being funneled into something too small for it and it was about to burst.

“That was to be expected I believe. Yes Mr. Potter, I do think I will be ‘misplacing’ this from its intended owner. Of course, I will recompense him for the loss, but that is not your worry. If you will please go into my little forest over there and pick a wood,” the elderly man directed.

“Go on Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall encouraged, seeing Harry’s (false) slight hesitation. "Do as Garrick says.”

Taking a deep breath to center himself, Harry walked into the corner that held Ollivander’s trees. After several long moments, he felt drawn towards a rather odd blend of white and black bark.

“This one,” Harry said decisively.

“A curious wood to be paired with the cores that have been chosen, no doubt. This is a unique Ollivander’s blend of elder wood and yew wood, though the wand I will be stripping down will service the elder wood for yours. Yew wand owners tend to be in situations where they will hold the balance of life and death in their very hands, and those who own wands of elder tend to be of extraordinary magic. Indeed Mr. Potter, you shall do great things. Whether they shall be terrible or good remains to be seen.”

“Please Garrick,” the professor scolded in a good-natured tone, “you’ll scare the poor child.”

“It’s alright,” Harry was quick to reassure, sounding slightly shy. “It’s interesting knowledge to know.”

Professor McGonagall gave Harry what he could only assume was a rare smile, for it did not seem that the professor was the sort to smile at her students often.

“Indeed Mr. Potter. It is good to know that you are of such character that such things do not bother you to hear. It very well may be a skill that you shall need later on in life.”

“I am in much agreement with you Minerva. Now if you could so kindly escort yourself and Mr. Potter to the front of the store, I shall have the wand ready for you in twenty minutes. Please feel free to leave or wait around.”

“Of course. Come along Mr. Potter.”

Harry felt a pang in his chest at the thought that he would have to leave his wand, or at least the materials for it, behind, but forced himself to follow Professor McGonagall up the stairs and past what seemed to be a solid brick wall.

“Let’s go get some ice cream Mr. Potter,” the professor suggested, suddenly sounding weary. “We have some rather disturbing, yet necessary things to discuss.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry agreed, and walked out with of the store with his guide.

~:|\\-/|:~

After enjoying the shocked look on the employee’s face that stemmed from Professor McGonagall ordering not only for Harry, but for herself as well, they settled in a booth in the back corner of the store. The professor cast some spells and, as if reading Harry’s mind, explained that they were charms to stop others from listening in on their conversation.

“I just wanted to start by apologizing to you Mr. Potter. If I had known that you were not being treated safely at home, I would’ve taken you in myself. No – do not try to deny it. You do not seem the type of child to choose to wear… Rags instead of actual clothes. In addition to the fact that you seem rather smart and clever, yet you are a year behind in your primary school. No Mr. Potter, I believe I have wronged you. Now,” the professor held up a hand, as if sensing she needed to ward off Harry’s questions. “I will not be trying to make up for my own error in judgment and action by suddenly trying to mother you. I have a feeling it would not be welcomed. I am, however, willing to legally take my place as your godmother, something that I would have done far earlier, but was not aware of my own status until last year March. This would, effectively, give me the power to allow you to stay over any breaks and holidays with myself, and to tie anyone’s hands who would wish to control where you are to go and what you are to do. In addition, it would give me the ability to ensure that the media in the wizarding world, which is rather unfortunately nosey, does not print about you or your life. It would also grant me the rights as any parent would have, however, I am willing to keep my actions regarding you as if you were simply a ward or godson. Unless, of course, there is a situation that proves to be too dangerous for you. I will, of course give you some time to think over the decision should you wish for some. I will not force you into one. However, I must insist that you would at least spend the summers elsewhere than your relative’s house. Is this all agreeable to you Mr. Potter?”

Harry sat in silence for a moment, mulling over the information Professor McGonagall had just dumped on him. Deciding that the pros far outweighed the cons, Harry almost spoke in agreement before Cain hissed.

_“She has good intentions wizardling, but you must factor in a restriction of freedom that comes from such a bond. I do not know if this will change your choice, but it is something to consider.”_

_“Thank you for the advice Cain, but I have already calculated that the restricted freedom is a far better trade off to the hurdles the Dursley’s make me jump over.”_ Harry petted his familiar’s head in a gestured of thanks.

“I think that I would very much like to have family that cares about me Professor,” Harry stated quietly. “And, if it would be alright with you, for you to call me Harry, I think I would like that very much.”

The professor got a look in her eye that told Harry he had succeeded in achieving his desired effect.

“Of course Harry. And, if you would feel comfortable in doing so, Aunt Minerva or Aunt Minnie would not be remised.”

Harry grinned in a broad, genuine smile. For while yes, he was using Professor McGonagall, or rather, Aunt Minerva, to an end, he was thoroughly delighted to have gained someone he sensed would be a loyal ally and, (dare he say) family member.

“Sure thing Aunt Minerva. But I do… Have a few questions. About my parents.”

“It is only natural. I suppose you should like the story from the beginning?”

Harry nodded, to show his agreement.

“Very well,” his newly minted Aunt Minerva sighed. “While it is unfortunate that this story is riddled with death I believe it is a necessity for you to know it. As I am sure you know by now, your parent’s names were James Potter and Lily Evans. Both were in my House while attending Hogwarts and both were very popular with both the students and teachers alike. While your mother named me godmother, your father named his best friend godfather. I do not wish to go into detail about that particular person, as he betrayed your parents to the Dark Lord Voldemort. I will warn you that most people refer to Voldemort as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

“This best friend of your father also killed another friend of theirs. However, there is a fourth surviving, non-incarcerated friend. Though he is a werewolf, he is one of the gentlest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and one of the brightest students I have ever taught. 

“Your mother, while popular, really only had one close friend while attending school. I would not, ever, bring this up with the man as they had an awful falling out, though I know they both were on the path of reconciling before your mother passed.

“Both your mother and father were magically talented, with James favoring Transfiguration and Runes, and with Lily favoring Potions and Charms. It is no surprise to me that you are that far more gifted then they were Harry, and I honestly wouldn’t expect nothing less, if only from the sheer amount of magical prowess you decent from.

“As I am sure you have guessed by now, Voldemort was after your parents, forcing them into hiding. I will not sugarcoat it Harry, for it was you who he sought. Please make no mistake, your parents were not cowards. They hid for your sake only.”

Here, Harry interrupted. “I suppose then this godfather of mine told this Voldemort where they were hiding and they died trying to protect me?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I will admit, no one is really sure how you survived that night, but please Harry, do not blame yourself. It would do you no good, nor anyone else if you did.”

“I understand Aunt Minerva. Of course I shouldn’t blame myself. I was a helpless baby! It was that maniac’s fault.”

“Indeed. I suppose you and I are both fortunate that you are a clever young boy, and that you can recognize when something isn’t your fault.”

“I suppose we are,” Harry agreed softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know everything seems super cliche, but I promise that it'll end up not being cliche in the end. I promise. I'm just being a little shit at the moment. Also yes, there is a reason why Harry seems way too mature for his age, no it's not just the abuse, no I'm not telling y'all yet. I'm also a huge fan of Minerva adopts Harry fics or any variation so there's going to be a prominence on that. Anyways come chat with me on Tumblr @our-blood-is-our-ink!


	3. Chapter 3

After finishing their ice cream, the duo of godmother and godson realized that they still had a bit of time to spare, so Minerva took Harry into Owl Emporium to buy him an owl that he could use to give and receive mail from. He ended up walking away with a beautiful snowy owl that he was able to name ‘Hedwig’ thanks to Cain’s ability to communicate with other magical creatures. After purchasing his second new familiar, Harry and Minerva headed back to Ollivanders to pick up his wand.

Upon entering the shop, Harry immediately felt a sharp tug that practically jerked his whole body, almost unwillingly, towards the back of the shop, where the wand maker himself was just emerging from.

“It is rare that even custom made wands will garner such a reaction from its chosen wizard,” the elderly man commented. “Here you are Mr. Potter. Elder and yew wood hybrid with a basilisk eye and a thestral hair core. Thirteen and one fourth inches, unyielding, yet shockingly swishy. I also took liberty in adding a very small stone that seemed to be attracted to your wand as a focal point at the base of it, though I could not discerned what kind of stone it is.” Ollivander handed Harry his wand and suddenly, Harry knew, he was complete.

He brought his wand down in a graceful arc, causing an explosion of molten silver flecks all over the shop.

“A powerful match has been made today,” murmured Ollivander in awe.

After a few moments, Minerva cleared her throat. “If we could please be on our way Garrick? What is the wand’s total cost?”

Blinking a few times, as if clearing his head, Ollivander nodded and directed them over to the register.

“Would you be liking a holster with that wand Mr. Potter? I have a few dragon hide and phoenix feather hybrid arm holsters that would serve you well.”

“Yes, please add that to the costs. What do we owe you?” Minerva asked.

After a few beats of silence, Ollivander looked up from a scrap of parchment he was doing calculations on.

“Sixty-seven galleons, thirty-one sickles and nineteen knuts. With the family discount, it’ll be fifty-two galleons, twenty-six sickles and seven knuts.”

When Harry reached for his pouch of gold, Minerva stopped him. “I would be more than happy to pay as a birthday gift for this year and all the previous ones I have missed,” she explained gently. Harry let her pay.

After they left the shop, Minerva looked at him regretfully.

“Unfortunately Harry, until I can get all the legalities sorted, I will have to return you to the Dursley’s. Though I **will** be making weekly check-ins to ensure that they are treating you properly. But before we arrive there, however, I do not think a stop a Muggle department store would be amiss, where we can get you some actual clothes.”

Harry smiled at the scorn in his godmother’s voice when she spoke of his relatives. “I think that’s a great idea,” he enthused. “Let’s go!”

~:|\\-/|:~

After buying a whole new wardrobe, Minerva dropped Harry off at his relatives, making up an excuse as to why she would now visit him once a week.

“It’s a new policy Hogwarts has implemented. I’m sure you understand, after some parents find out that their children are magical, they take to harming them. This is just a precautionary sort of thing,” Minerva had lied smoothly.

Harry hadn’t been happier at the Dursley residence.

The rest of summer flew by, and before Harry knew it, Minerva had arrived to escort him to Kings Cross Station.

“Aunt Minerva!” Harry had shouted excitedly, admiring the new shade of purple Vernon had achieved at his exclamation.

“Hello Harry. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes! I can’t wait for Hogwarts!” Harry took to being as expressive as possible with Minerva while in the presence of his relatives, as their reactions served to give him entertainment.

Minerva was clearly trying to stifle laughter at Harry’s antics, which were clearly to put his despicable relatives at discomfort.

“Excellent. Before we go, however, I must quickly do something. It will only take a moment.”

And, not even blinking, Minerva drew her wand and started casting spells.

“There,” she said, sounding satisfied a few minutes later. “That should ensure that when the Wizarding Child Protection Services get here all the evidence needed should be in place. I suppose now is as good as any time to inform you, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, that your nephew will not be returning to your home, as I have properly claimed guardianship over my godson. Harry, I don’t suppose you have anything to say?”

Harry’s smile was a genuine one, something that had happened an alarming amount of times in the past two months.

“No, I don’t think I do. Or, actually.” Harry turned to face his cousin. “Dudley, if you ever gain enough common sense to turn out differently than your parents, feel free to address a letter to Hogwarts. They’ll make sure it reaches me.”

Minerva eyed Harry with a mixture of amusement and slight pride.

“That is very mature of you Harry, for recognizing that parents do not always dictate how their children turn out. Now if you have everything, I believe we are ready to depart.”

And it was without so much as a blink of protest that Harry left Number Four Privet Drive forever.

~:|\\-/|:~

Once they arrived at the train station, Minerva directed Harry to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, bid him farewell, and promised to see him soon. Cain was snoozing on his shoulders and Harry had allowed Hedwig to fly ahead to Hogwarts so that she would not be cooped up in a cage for several hours. Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Finding an empty compartment towards the back of the train, Harry settled in for the seven hour journey, pulling out _The Muggleborn’s Advanced Guide to Potion Preparation and Ingredient Interaction_. He quickly fell into its pages and did not notice that two hours had passed until a kind, older looking witch was standing in the doorway with a trolley full of sweets, and glanced at his watch.

“Anything from the trolley dear?”

“Do you happen to have anything a bit more filling than candy?” Harry asked shyly, unsure if he had just insulted the witch.

“Of course! It isn’t often I get asked, but I always have fruit and some choice sandwiches to offer.”

Harry quickly made his selection of a bowl of strawberries and a cheese sandwich, as well as a huge slab of chicken meat for Cain, who had awoken and was just as hungry as Harry.

“Have a nice ride dear. If you need anything, I’ll be up with my husband, the conductor.”

Thanking the kind old witch, Harry settled back down to read, only to be interrupted once more right as he finished his meal, when the door to his compartment slammed open.

“Have you seen a toad? Neville here has lost one and I’m helping him look for it. I’m Hermione Granger, by the way.”

“No. I haven’t seen a toad,” Harry replied, as politely as he could. “Though I doubt anyone on the Hogwarts staff would allow a pet to be lost. I’m sure there’s a way to magical summon someone’s familiar. There’s not much to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” A nervous voice asked. A pale boy came into view, peering at Harry with a hopeful face.

“Of course I’m sure. When A- Professor McGonagall escorted me to Diagon Alley, she assured me that even if someone was to lose a familiar, the staff would be more than happy to help search,” assured Harry.

“Oh. Well then, maybe I can sit in here with you? I couldn’t find an empty compartment when I first came on the train,” the other boy asked.

Harry internally sighed. “Of course, as long as you don’t mind my reading. I’m trying to catch up on all the information I have missed by being raised Muggleborn.”

The pale boy – Neville, Harry supposed – looked relieved at that statement. “If you don’t mind lending me a book, we can read together. I don’t know where my trunk’s gone.”

Harry gave Neville a small smile. “Sure.”

“What are you reading?” Harry almost startled at the sound of the girl’s – Hermione’s – voice.

In response, Harry lifted the book’s cover at eyelevel for her.

“Oh. I haven’t read that one yet. Is it any good?”

“It seems to have some solid advice,” Harry said, noncommittally.

Hermione seemed to hesitate before saying, “I know where my trunk is. Would you terribly mind a third person reading in here? It’s just so noisy everywhere else on the train.”

Honestly, though Harry didn’t really want to sit with others, he supposed it was fine as long as they just sat and read.

“Sure.”

“Oh, thank you! I’ll be right back,” Hermione promised.

When she returned, her trunk accidently nicked Cain’s tail, startling both familiar and human alike.

“What in the worl- why would you have a SNAKE? The Hogwarts rules clearly stat-”

“Professor McGonagall herself told me that the Hogwarts Charter says that any and all familiars must be allowed within the walls of Hogwarts, given that they do not cause the death of any student, familiar, or resident of Hogwarts.”

Hermione blushed. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

Harry laughed, but not unkindly. “Maybe read through a copy of the Hogwarts Charter as well as the current rulebook.”

Hermione, sensing she was not being made fun of, laughed as well, while Neville just smiled faintly, seeming relieved everyone was getting along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too happy with the word count on this chapter, but with me trying to wrap up my senior year and actually graduate, I find that I have no time left to add any more at the moment. Hopefully I'll be updating weekly, though I may need to switch to every other week. Also, come end of this month, I am uncertain if I will have a computer on which to post, so we shall see what happens. Thank you to all the lovelies who are leaving kudos and comments and bookmarking and all that. It warms this author's cold, shriveled heart and feeds her as well. So thank you, truly. Anyways, this was the last chapter I have pre-written, although I AM working on the next one already, which is partially why I don't have the time to dedicate to focus on a bigger word count for this chapter. So because the next chapter is not yet fully written, any ideas or hopes WILL be taken into account and I urge you to share what you think will happen! Stay safe everyone ♡♡♡♡♡


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